


Memory Games

by SonriaCat



Series: Tales from Winter Camp [14]
Category: Earth 2 (TV 1994)
Genre: 100 situations, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2019-02-20 08:35:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13142952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SonriaCat/pseuds/SonriaCat
Summary: Table games can have a deeper meaning than just boards and playing pieces.





	Memory Games

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Table

True looked up at Yale, still a little uncertain. “This is called four-two?”

“Right,” he answered. “A four on one die and a two on the other. Now, how do you move?”

She was more confident as she answered. “One checker goes four points and one goes two.”

“Exactly.”

The girl considered the backgammon set before them. It wasn’t the best quality, as it was made from a piece of scrap wood he’d salvaged and wood-burned, but it worked well enough.

Uly snorted when True began moving one of the irregularly-shaped checkers. “That’s not the way to do it.”

“Yes it is! I’m moving it four points, just like I’m supposed to.”

“Yeah, but you ought to move that one two points.” He pointed to another piece. “ _That_ _’s_ the one you ought to move four.”

“Why?” Her voice was starting to rise.

Yale kept his voice patient and even. “True, try to think a couple of moves ahead. What do you think Uly will do on his next move?”

She gave him an incredulous look. “How’m I supposed to know? He hasn’t even rolled yet.”

“Think about it anyway,” he answered. “What if he got five-one?”

Uly started to answer but Yale shushed him. “Let her work this out.”

With an air of pained tolerance, True studied the board. “Well, if I were him, I’d move that one five points and that one, one.”

“But this one is closer to his table. Why wouldn’t he move that?”

“Because he’d get the one with five all the way off his table,” she answered immediately. “And the other one will still be far enough away that he could move it off with either a two or a three.”

“Right. Now, what if Uly rolled six-one?”

“Then he’d move that one, one point.”

“Correct. Now, how can you block him from making the most advantageous move?”

“Yale!” whined Uly. “Don’t _help_ her!”

She glared at Uly before Yale could respond. “So you were right, and I just didn’t see it before. So what?”

“Well, any moron could have figured it out,” he said. “Probably faster’n you did.”

“It’s just a stupid game!” she shot back. “I have more important things to do most of the time. We’re only even playing it ’cause we’re snowed in.”

“You’re just jealous,” Uly sneered.

“You’re _both_ cranky and tired. That’s enough,” said Devon firmly from behind them. “Yale, how close are you to the end of the game?”

He only needed a glance. “At least six moves.”

“Okay,” she answered. “That’ll take a little while, so you can finish the game tomorrow morning. Right now, it’s time for bed.”

That statement earned the expected protests from both children, but Devon stood firm and led them away. Yale picked up the backgammon board and moved it to a more secure location, careful not to disturb the checkers’ positions. Then he sat, studying it for a moment, considering the potential scenarios.

In most of them, Uly won. True had held him off for quite a long time, but she still didn’t have the same grasp of strategy that he did. She was learning fast enough, though, that this point would be a perfect time to stop and teach them a bit of two-dimensional reasoning. After all, backgammon was a perfect example for game theory.

Yale frowned to himself. Game theory was a university-level topic. Why had it come to mind so quickly and easily when his job was tutoring elementary-age children?

He shook his head. The simplest explanation was that he was remembering something again. The memories had been returning in fragments ever since the memory wash had broken, and he’d learned to identify the signs when it was happening, but it still startled him every time.

“Yale?” Bess was behind him. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” he answered too quickly.

“Are you sure?”

He took a breath. “I’m experiencing another memory. But I will be all right.”

“Oh. What kind of memory?”

He indicated the game board. “Mathematical theories, studies that involved using backgammon as an example. I can…” he trailed off, letting the images clarify in his mind. “I can see calculations on a screen, remember long conversations with fellow students. They became quite animated at times.”

“You were studying higher math?” she asked. “Why?”

“I know that I was in graduate school when…when things happened.” It was still painful to refer to that time. “But I don’t know what degree I was seeking.”

“Maybe it was in math.”

“Maybe,” he allowed. “But there are several different reasons to study game theory.”

“Still, it’s a clue.” She smiled. “I’ll bet you were pretty smart, and pretty special too.”

He took comfort from the gentle touch of her hand. “Maybe.”

“Then remembering’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“I suppose,” he said slowly. “The…experience of memory return itself can be fairly chaotic.” Yale realized he was still shaking a little. “It’s not always pleasant.”

“Well,” she said with more sympathy. “It could’ve been worse. It could happen when you’re with the children, or driving a vehicle. Right now, it’s safe.”

_Safe_. The word seemed ironic. “What could be safe about a broken memory wash?”

“What could be safe about trying to walk halfway across the continent?”

“You have a point,” he admitted.

She nodded and squeezed his hand. “We’re here if you need help. There’s no shame in asking. Maybe it’ll all come together before spring. It sounds like you had a pretty interesting life.”

“Perhaps.”

“So,” she asked. “What is game theory, anyway?”

With a smile, he started to explain.


End file.
